


Playing with Toys

by Extra_fried_noodles



Category: Actor RPF, Toy Story Series (Movies), X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Crack, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Toy!X-Men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 08:15:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Extra_fried_noodles/pseuds/Extra_fried_noodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toy Story Inspired AU. </p><p>Prompt fill: </p><p>12 year old Michael demonstrates what 'bases' mean to his best friend 10 year old James, using their most favorite toys, a plushy Magneto and a handmade plywood Professor X. Little do they know, Magneto and the Professor are bitter enemies with hidden history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually my own prompt. I had alot of fun writing my first ever fanfic filling another's prompt, I thought I'd play around with my some of my own~
> 
> Full prompt can be found here:  
> http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/7736.html?thread=15938104#t15938104
> 
> The first chapter is PG.  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> (I've notice so many mistakes and formatting that didn't carry through, danno if editing after posting does anything.... I am ashamed, plz forgive me! orz)

  
  
"When are you going to wake up from your dream, Xavier? It is us against them! Your talk of peace will only delay the inevitable"  
  
"Please, Eri-"  
  
"Do not call me that. It is Magneto."  
  
The Professor heaved a loud sigh, "Fine, Magneto. Please, violence and destruction is not the answer. It will not bring you peace, my friend."  
  
"Peace was never an option." With that, Magneto raised his hands and stood in his signature stance, his fellows in the Brotherhood alongside him ready for attack.  
  
Opposite them stood an equally fierce and ready line of opponents. The Professor, seemingly out of place on this battlefield in a crisp, well tailored suit, placed himself in between them.  
  
"Please everyone, we don't need to do this. We are all woven from the same fabric of-" A blue furry paw grips firmly at the Professor's shoulders. "Professor, they will not listen to reason. Please, stay behind us." It was Hank, formally one of the most timid amongst his pairs, now forced to become the deadly soldier that he is. The Beast is now one of the most formidable soldiers on the battlefield, just don't let the poofy blue fur and round teddy bear face fool you. He will rip you apart before you can finish calling him a Care Bear.  
  
For an intense moment, there was complete silence and stillness in the tense air. Then Sabretooth, the tanned colored lion cub plush toy with two oversized canines that dangled from his mouth, releases an ear piecing roar, and the two lines of 'warriors' descend upon each other.  
  
Riptide, the purple clad character with flowing hair, and two battery operated fans for hands, made the first attack with his whirlwinds. Havok, the rubber monster normally used during bath time for squirting circular patterns of water, sent Riptide a blast of red cosmic energy from his LED lights. Wolverine, a plush wolf cub with dark glass eyes and oversized paws, swiped hard at the lion cub toy. He came to the house in the came packet of toys as Sabretooth, but a difference of beliefs have driven the brothers apart, and now they fight fiercely against each other.  
  
All of a sudden, amongst the screaming and combat, one loud high-pitched voice can be heard. "Wait! The boys! They're back!" Banshee, a yellow and black striped bumble bee shaped megaphone announced.  A slew of curses followed as everyone stopped their fighting, and moved back to their former position.  
  
Not a second later, a colossal sized door opens, and two seemingly gigantic human boys stumble into the room, wet from the rain, giggling and trying to knock each other over.  With their entrance, the other 'residents' in the room freeze up,  turning into a bizarre mix of seemingly lifeless figurines and toys.  
  
~x~  
  
"Why did Jen say she went to baseball with Nick? Is been raining for days, we've all been stuck in."  James was splayed on his stomach in Michael’s room, idly sorting through their now vast though mismatched collection of toys . Michael being almost two full years older than ten year old James, heaved a sigh and pretended to look annoyed at his best friend since before he could remember.  
  
"Its not actually baseball, its bases. You're still such a kid, I don't think I should tell you more."  
  
"You're not so big neither! I'll be 11 in no time! ...and I hate it when you and Jen keep secrets from me..." James became teary eyed and almost whimpered that last part.  In an instant, Michael is at his side giving James a friendly shoulder nudge.  "Fine I'll tell you, geez how I spoil you"  
  
Michael grabbed their two most favoritest toys, Magneto and Professor X, and told James to settle down and listen carefully. Cause this was big manly stuff!  
  
"So first base is-", Michael presses Magneto's soft plushy, glass bead eyed face to Professor X's flat hand-drawn cardboard face, "-kissing".  As if to bang the idea home, the ginger hair boy rubs the toys' faces together and makes smooching noises. Neither of them notice how the eyes of all the toys in the room seemed to have doubled in size.  
  
James grabs Magneto and the Professor from the older boy and tries it himself, even going as far as giving both of the toys a big smooch each himself. "I don't see whats so special about it, Mom gives us kisses all the time, and she never said anything about bases".  
  
"When its from family it doesn't count, now give them back, or don't you wanna know what second, third and home is?" James quickly hands back the plushy, but gave the Professor a quick scan to make sure he's alright.  This Professor X is James' most prized possession after all.  
  
"Second base is getting nudey, and touching". The toys don't have any clothes to take off, so Michael resorts to flapping Magneto's velvet maroon cape about.  
  
"Touching? Like boobies? Eeww!" James didn't want his Professor anywhere near boobies.  "That means Nick touched Jen's boobies! O-or Jen touched Nick's boobies? Eeewwww!!".  Jennifer, James' older sister, was the whole reason why the boys were having _The Talk_.  James had overheard Jennifer gossiping about her boyfriend, and was left utterly dumbfounded about why they had gone to play baseball when it had been raining hard all week.  The clueless boy had confronted his sister about it during dinner a few days ago, and ended up more confused when Jennifer stormed away from the dinner table and back into her room.  
  
"What's next then? How can anything be yuckier than that?"James was now completely enthralled with Michael's lecture.  He looked up at his best friend with large inquisitive blue eyes.  
  
Michael tried to give James a smirk, but it came off more of an aloof, 'you're too adorable for this world' smile. "If you think that's yuck, I don't think you're gonna wanna hear whats next..." "No! I'm fine! I can take it! Please Mikey! I wanna know!" James grabbed onto his best friend's gray sweat pants that had big bold 'Magneto' written down the sides of both legs.  
  
"Alright, alright! Stop pulling on my pants, you'll pull them right off! You perve!" He couldn't stop his giggles.  They spend a further five minutes playing tug of war with Michael's sweats, before James gives up and begs his friend to continue.  
  
"So! Third base is where your wiener gets touched, and..." Michael leans in right up close to James and whispers, "...and even licked." "Eeewwww!!! That's so dirty!!" The older boy laughs and teases his smaller friend.  He grabs Magneto, his own most prized possession, a soft, round plush toy made in the likeness of his favorite comic book character, skin the most rich of velvets, and insides stuffed to the brim with soft organic cotton, and has him go down on Professor X, a plywood and cardboard replica that Erik handmade himself of Charles' most favorite comic book hero, as a birthday gift to his best friend a few years back.  
  
"Eeeww!! No! Stop it Mikey! The Professor doesn't do those things!" Between giggling and struggling to get the Professor back, James managed to push both of them onto the bed, and now he sat obliviously on Michael's lap. The older boy blushed furiously, and subtly maneuvered the smaller boy off him, before continuing.  
  
"And last but not least, a home run is-"  
  
"Boys! Pack up and wash hands. Time for supper".  Michael's mom called them from the kitchen downstairs.  His dad had the day off from work, and promised the boys their favorite meal of homemade burgers. The boys placed their toys down on the bed, and beamed at each other while they raced out of Michael's room, at the very last moment remembering to wash their hands.  
  
Unbeknownst to the boys, every toy in the room turned five shades too green. Nobody dared moved for a long time.

  
~x~  
  
"A-are you alright, Magneto?" Raven, the blue scaled chameleon that can be reattached to form a variety of other shapes, tiptoed her way next to her leader, and poked him in his soft cushiony legs with her talon-clad feet. Only she was one poke too late to remember that was the worst thing she could do, as a loud slow squeal was released from Magneto's squeaky left leg, echoing for what seemed like minutes in the deadly silent room. Even the White Queen, the ever graceful figurine make of clear Lego pieces, held in her snark.  
  
The ground seemed to shake, and the rest of the toys stepped backwards in fear.  From the far corner of the room, a dark shadow can be seen snaking its way over, bringing with it a cringe worthy creaking sound of metal being bent. Magneto stood up with all his dignity and continued to call for his ride. From behind a pile of dirtied clothes, a small tightly wound springy tail wagged while the rest of the body wobbled backwards towards the metal bender. It was a metal slinky. A metal slinky dog. A metal slinky dachshund dog. The wagging tail, attached to the bum made its way over under Magneto's demand, and the head took a further few seconds to arrive.  
  
“Hey ya'll! What's goin' on?” The rest of the toys were still too scared to speak. “It's been a long time, Slink. We'll need to catch up another time, I think Magneto here is in dire need of your services.” Magneto brushed off his cape and jumped onto his ride. "This is not over, Xavier." He then sausaged off, standing proud and arms crossed with as much dignity as only he can have.

  
~x~

  
"Good night Mikey..." It was still raining frogs outside, so Mrs. Fassbender decided it was best if James were to stay the night. After dinner, they took a nice warm bubble bath, where the boys made a spectacular mess in the bathroom, with the help of Havok. Michael lent James his Woody and Buzz pajamas, and put on his current favorite Avengers ones.  
  
“Night, kiddo.” “I'm not a kid...” James gave a pout but nonetheless cuddled close to his best friend. Michael ruffled James's soft brown waves, and gave him a soft kiss on his cherry red lips. "...does that mean we went to first base?" Michael laughed extra loud to try to cover his maroon face. "Yeah, kiddo, and now I'mma take you to second!" He lifted James's pajama top up, and tickle attacked him. James laughed uncontrollably, and tried to tickle back, but failed miserably, and for the second time today, he found himself sitting on top of Michael's lap.  
  
Michael was all of a sudden at a loss of what to do. He hugged the smaller boy tightly, breathing in the scent of his hair. It smelt of his mint shampoo. Between bursts of laughter, James managed to say, “Mikey! Stop! Can't breathe!”  
  
“Alright, boys! Lights off, no more playing. Good night.” “Good night, Mom.” “Good night, Mrs. Fassbender!”  
  
James was soon sound asleep, his small hands clutched tightly at Michael's pajama top. Michael was currently very thankful for his mother shutting off the lights. That way, no one could see how red his face was, and how hard his heart was pounding in his chest.

  
~x~  
  


“What do you want, Raven?” The Beast snarled at the transforming reptilian. “Its Mystique now. We have a situation, that requires assistance.” Banshee flapped himself over and said, “Yeah well, we've got a huge problem too. Thought maybe the White Queen could help.” The blue teddy growled loudly, “Sean!” “What? The Professor's gone! We need all the help we can get.” “Wait! Charles is gone too? We can't located Magneto.” The fur on Hank's body sagged downwards. “Gather your people and meet us under the bed in 15 minutes.”  
  
After discussing for around half an hour, the two groups of super-powered toys came to an armistice. “So it's agreed. We unite together to find our leaders. Afterwards, it's back to business as usual.” None of them like the situation much, but there was little choice. Magneto and the Professor have been gone for hours. “I will scout around ahead.” Azazel was a bright red LED lit boxing glove on springs was one of the fastest travelers, sometimes it seemed as if he could teleport himself.  
  
They scoured the room to no avail, until someone suggested they look in the most dreaded and dangerous place possible. **The Closet**. Deep in the dark and formidable recesses of this haunted cavern, the united toys hear echoes of an almost pained groaning. “That's Charles!” Hank, with his acute hearing pinpointed the direction of the noise and ran towards it. He froze in his tracks when he hears, “Ooohh... Erik... yesyesyes!! Right there! Harder!” He was so shocked, he did not have time to tell the others to stand down. The sight that awaited them burst a few glass eyes, LED bulbs, and numerous plastic components.  
  
On top of a pile of wooly jumpers, Magneto was performing a perfect demonstration on the Professor of what it means to hit a home run.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated mature  
> The tone is VERY different from the first chapter, and there is ALOT of angst. I still don't know what came over me.
> 
> If you like only fluff and crack, you may want to take the previous chapter as a one-shot.  
> But if you like some angst, please do read further :)  
> Also, there are parts that get a bit sappy (I can't help it), and it is a happy ending~
> 
> The James and Michael here is a mix of RP and Charles & Erik, and other nonsense, cause I'm too lazy to research properly.
> 
> I'm basing them in the US, just cause that's the easiest, though I'm not from the US so my knowledge of the US school system is dodgy.
> 
> Btw, the Toy-realities also indicate a sort of time skip in the real world.

 

  
Michael slams the door to his room shut. "Look James, I'm in high school now, I'm not interested in these toys and pathetic games, alright? And you can't just show up outside my school!" The teen was extremely embarrassed to find James waiting enthusiastically at the school gates for him. The last time the younger boy did that, he spent weeks dispelling rumors about his sexuality, even going as far as obscenely making out with Zoe on the cheer leading team in a very public setting.  
  
"I-I'm sorry! But you've been so busy with your new friends, we haven't done anything together for ages. It's like you're avoiding me.." James hugged Professor X close to his chest. He fought hard to keep the tears at bay. He didn't want to seem so weak and needy in from of this Michael. "Look! This," Michael grabs the handmade gift out of James' hands and waves it around angrily, "This is what little boys play with. I'm not a little boy anymore, OK? I have my own life and friends! Why don't you just go play with some of those other kids of your age?"  
  
"But you're my friend! You're suppose to be my best friend!" The normally laid back and easy-going teen looked close to breaking. "Well maybe we shouldn't be friends anymore, alright!?" Without thinking, Michael slams the plywood toy onto his desk in a fit of frustration, and it splinters into pieces.  
  
A pale faced James looked wide eyed at the scattered state of his most treasured belonging ever since Michael gave it to him on his seventh birthday. He looked at their shattered friendship. His brain doesn't even have the time to react with tears, before he wordlessly backs out of the room, and out of Michael's life.  
  
Guilt and heartache flooded into Michael at the sight of the retreating boy. "James..." He begins, then used every muscle in his body to abruptly stop himself. He believes this would be the best for both of them. The teen slumped down on his bed, and pulls at his brown-ginger curls. He continued to repeat to himself that it's for the best. That ultimately, James will be better without him. Fully disgusted with himself, and unable to stand one more second in this room filled to the brim with now agonizing memories, Michael runs to the bathroom down the hall and throws up.  
  
Neither of the boys had felt the slight resonance in the room when the Professor was reduced to ruin.  
  
~x~  
  
"Charles!! I'm here! We'll fix this, you'll be fine!" Erik had Azazel transport him from the closet to the Professors side the instant Michael left the room. The closet of Michael's room was where the toys were put these days. It would be normal for James to come straight over from school, and do homework then play with them. The Professor would usually be the only one that went home with James, though on a handful of special occasions, Michael had let him take Magneto too. For the past few months, the older teen had been increasingly short-tempered with James, especially if he were to get out the box full of toys from the closet.  
  
"..E..ri..." Charles doesn't finish saying his name.  
  
 _My...lo..ve..._  
  
Charles had not the strength to control his telepathic abilities, and every single toy for miles heard his final words. The glimmer in his painted eyes then faded away, and he became a scattered pile of wood and paper.  
  
"No! Charles! We can fix this, stay with me! Somebody find some fucking glue!!” Erik roared and  
  
“Charles, wake up...please..I need you by my side..." The squeaky plushy starts piecing together the fragments of hand painted wood.  
  
Azazel uses his great range and brought over a tube of superglue. "Magneto, please give Hank some room." Raven was barely holding it together, her body seemed to be shifting uncontrollably, and her eyes were heavily glazed over. But she can't give up hope. Charles, someone she had called brother for the better part of her childhood, cannot just die like this.  
  
Hank works as swiftly and efficiently as his trembling paws would allow. In a matter of minutes, he's managed to glue together the Professor's head and body, but his mentor remained fractured lifeless shell. The metal of the large window sill rattled hard enough to cause a large unsightly crack in one of the glass panels.  
  
Every single toy walks up slowly, their faces solemn. To half of them, Charles Xavier was more than just a leader. He was their father, brother and best friend. To the other half who've fought against him, he was a respected and fearsome opponent, who on more than one occasion, showed them compassion and undue hospitality.  
  
"Come on Charles! Wake up! Look, we've all come together for you! I promise, this will no longer be just your dream! Wake up and look!....please...” The silence that fell upon the room was stifling, but nobody dared make a noise.  
  
After a few minutes, movement could be heard from outside the room. “It's Michael! He's coming back!” Sean alerted them from the large bedroom door. Hank and Alex looked at each other, and they knew what needed to be done. “...we have to...break him up...or else Michael will notice.” They move to begin the dreaded task, when out of nowhere, a handful of paperclips uncoil and grips blue paws and rubber claws away from their father figure.  
  
“No. I will do it.” Erik says, voice drained of emotion. He leaned down to give his love one final kiss, before closing his eyes to the eerie sounds of crackling wood. Afterward, the plush toy grips at one small piece of his lost love, the hand painted breast pocket of his black suit, where the heart would be, and makes no attempt to move.  
  
“Erik, we have to go...” Raven places her claw softly on Erik's shoulder, and pulls him onto Azazel's awaiting hand.  
  
~x~  
  
Michael opted to go on a year-long study abroad exchange in England for his first year of college. He needed to get away from all that has been haunting him. To get away from the ghosts still lingering in his room. To get away from the deep guilt and pain he caused back then in one single moment.  
  
That was the last time they talked to each other. It took few more intensely awkward family meals for them to finally stop having to see each other. It was a small relief that James went to attend a highly prestigious high school on the other side of town on a full scholarship, something he still secretly feels admiration and pride for.  
  
A fresh start in England gave him a much more optimistic perspective on his life and his sexual orientation. It gave the room to grow into his skin. He made life-long supportive and encouraging friends. He also met a string of eager and loving boyfriends, but none of them could erase the image of a brokenhearted James recoiling away from him. None of their smiles would move his heart like James' did. None of their caress was what he craved at the end of a particularly long day.  
  
And he can't figure out why. It's been years since last time Michael saw him, and even then, the boy had barely hit puberty. Just as he was coming to terms with his immense guilt and self-loathing, it was time to head back Stateside.  
  
Going back to his home country almost felt like stepping backwards, but Michael settled back in surprisingly smoothly in an out-of-state college, relinquishing his old detrimental ties. Before he knew it, he had earned his bachelors and got accepted for graduate school in Columbia. He was finally beginning to feel complacent in his new found, admittedly mundane life.  
  
Then he sees him.  
  
He had just come from a meeting with his thesis professor, when he spotted a silhouette that made his heart stop. His breathing became slightly asthmatic as he looked longingly as the figure before him. Michael couldn't quite believe it to be true, and he knew he should have turned around and forget about it. But he was weak, and selfish. So he had to know.  
  
"James? James McAvoy."  
  
The lithe man, wearing ass hugging denim with a simple T-shirt under a thin comfortable cardigan, was caught off guard, and spun around in surprise, face innocently confused. For what seemed like minutes, he just stood there, blinking and processing.  
  
"....Mi-Michael? T-this is an unexpected surprise. What brings you here?" His voice was full of polite cheer, but his smile did not reach his large, sky-blue eyes.  
  
"Grad school. I...thought you went to Harvard." "You've kept tabs on me?" James looked genuinely taken aback before he continued on "I..ugh..transferred to Columbia because they offered a better cours-" "Jamesy, you ready to g- Oh! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."  
  
"Tom! No, you're not interrupting. This is Michael, a childhood friend and neighbor. Michael, this is Tom, my boyfriend." He said it with such confidence and pride. It shook Michael to his core. What the fuck had he been running away from all this time?  
  
"Oh! A pleasure to meet you! Got any funny stories to share?" Tom, a perfect specimen of a lean and tall Greek statue come to life, inclusive of a head of lush golden curls and dramatically expressive eyes, gave a blinding smile and held out his hand in greeting. It did not surprise Michael one bit that James would melt the heart of an Adonis like this, and he bit back every ounce of bitterness when he shook the man's hand. “Pleasure's mine.”  
  
"Is it really true Jamesy here took up majoring in Genetics cause he used to want to be Professor X from the comic books?" James' boyfriend had a hand snugly around his waist, and gave him a soft peck on his blush filled cheeks. "I knew I shouldn't have told you. You're never going to let me live it down are you?" "Oh baby, you know its one of the things I adore most about you." James looked back up at Tom adoringly, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips in return.  
  
Michael knew he had no right to be jealous, but he couldn't help himself. He felt like that was their little secret. If he wasn't such a pathetic piece of chicken shit all those years ago, it could have been him with his arms around James, teasing him about it. His kisses on those ruby lips. His mouth voicing his love.  
  
James seemed to have picked up on Michael's distress, and gave him another barely there perplexed look. "It's great to you again, Michael, but we've got lectures to get to...." "Right, of course. Sorry for keeping you guys. It's great to see you too, a-and nice to meet you, Tom. I'll see you around then."  
  
"Sure." He sounded anything but.  
  
And for the second time in his life, Michael felt his world crumble as he lets James walk away.  
  
~x~  
  


Deep inside a half empty, and slightly mildewy closet, an eclectic group of super-powered toys had been busy taking steps in honoring Professor Charles Xavier's legacy. Powered and non-powered toys have bound together to form a vast network of homes for gifted and/or impoverished toys, all in the Professor's name.  
  
"Magneto, Han- I mean Beast wishes to talk with you this afternoon about the progress on the construction of the school, and Emma wants to update you on the curriculum she's been working on.”  
  
“It is alright Mystique, you may call him whatever he wishes to be called. From now on, please call me Erik. It is what he preferred.” These days, Erik Lehnsherr, formally Magneto, remains one of the most feared toys in the world, just for different reasons than a few years back.  
  
The blue chameleon's features soften. “OK, then I wish for you to call me Raven.” Then a loud eager knock at the door breaks their moment. “Oh...and Ken wants to show you his new and improved aerobics program for the children....and tips for the perfect fake tan....” From the gap in the door, he sees said androgynous, plastic figure waving all too enthusiastically at him. There are still moments where Erik doubts whether Charles' dreams are truly for the better.  
  
~x~  
  
"Michael...right?" He turned around to face the last face he wanted to see.  
  
"Tom. Hi, ugh...good to see you again." The blonde gave him another blistering smile, the guy needs to walk around with a UV warning, what with all the sunshine he's radiating. "I'm so glad I've found you!" Michael instinctively went into overdrive with concern. Was something up with James? "You've been looking for me?"  
  
"Yeah! I don't know if you remember or are even aware, it's James' birthday coming up on Friday. I'm holding a party for him, and I was hoping you could come." Michael remembers, alright. Every year on that very day, he retrieves a box containing the one thing that symbolizes all the guilt of what he did to James, and imagines what it could have been like if he hadn't fucked it all up.  
  
"I don't think that's a good idea. We hardly know each other anymore." "No! It'll be fine. James hasn't made many new friends here since his transfer, and his sister had to cancel her visit last minute. So I thought at least one more familiar face would be better than it mostly being my friends."  
  
Michael makes a hesitant noise, "Friday night I presume? I normally have work then, I'll have to see if I can get my shift changed."  
  
Tom starts scribbling down some details on a piece of paper. “This is our address and time and all that. Oh! Also our numbers in case you can't find it.” Michael reluctantly takes the paper. Those were some dangerous information. “You guys live together? Been a couple for a long time then.” Tom beamed. “We started out simply as flatmates, and we've been together for few months now.” Michael nodded in understanding, feigning nonchalance. “Well, I really hope we'll see you there! I'm off to pick out a cake, hopefully it'll be something he like-"  
  
"Cheesecake. He loves, well he used to love cheesecake." Tom looked somewhat bewildered, and at the same time thankful. "Really? That's great! That narrows down my dilemma then. Thanks so much!"  
  
Michael released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. The guy was perfect for James. Everything James deserved. Everything he was not.  
  
~x~  
  
"How did you even know I loved cheesecake? Don't tell me you called and asked Jen." James was currently sitting on top of Tom's lap, and being hand fed forkfuls of smooth velvety cake made with eight different types of cheese at just the right amount of sweetness with a hint of savory. Between bites, they would steal quick kisses from each other.  
  
"No, actually, your friend, Michael, told me. I bumped into him a few days ago, and invited him to come tonight, but I guess he couldn't swap his work shift tonight. Pity, cause it seems like you two were close, if he still remembers your favorite type of cake.”  
  
If Tom had noticed the brunet flinch at the mention of Michael's name, he didn't show it. James felt strings tugging at his heart. He hated the fact that after what he's done, and after all these years, Michael was still able to rattle his world.  
  
“Alright you two! I'm calling it a night before all my teeth fall out from an overload of your lovin'! Come on everyone, lets get outta here before we see anything that even bleach won't clear.” Chris, one of Tom's closest friends, ushered everyone out, taking with him bags of trash and a quarter of the cheesecake, 'as payment'. “Try to not freak the neighbors out, boys!” The lovebirds smiled at each other and things moved swiftly into one of their bedrooms.  
  
The next morning, after Tom had already left for an early morning lecture, James found a simply wrapped gift parcel outside the door of their apartment. It must have been placed there in person, as it had no postage markings or card to say who it was to or from. It didn't need to. The second he opened it up, he knew.  
  
Carefully, as if the lightest touch would tear apart the craftsmanship, James took out an almost familiar handmade plywood and cardboard toy. It was his Professor X, remade from the original broken pieces, and now he came with a custom made wheelchair. For an hour, James sat on his bed and wept silently. He doesn't know if they were tears of joy or despair.  
  
Later that day he received a text from an unknown number.  
  
 _Happy Birthday._

_I've held on to that gift for years._

_He's finally made his way back home._  
  
James doesn't reply. But he saves the number.  
  
~x~  
  
“Ms. Frost? Where is Mr. Magneto today? He promised to take us training.” Jean, a My Little Pony with vibrant fiery red hair, walked into class with Scott, a smaller version of his brother Alex, though with one single large LED light as his eye, earning him the nickname, Cyclops.  
  
The see-through Lego toy knew well to let her good friend have all the space he needs today. It was the anniversary of Charles' death. They haven't yet disclosed this fact to the children attending the school dedicated to his memory. “I don't think he'll be coming in today, sugar. Perhaps Alex or Logan will assist in your training.”  
  
“Is something wrong? I saw him this morning, and he looked a bit down....and when I asked Mr. Etch in first period, all he drew was a sad and lonely picture of Mr. Magneto.”  
  
The rest of the children have entered the class too, and looked at their teacher with concerned expressions. If you had told Emma Frost only a few years ago, she would have laughed and turned your brain into mush at the suggestion that she would ever come to be so fond of a group of children.  
  
“There is nothing to worry about. Magneto is strong, but even the strongest warriors need time off sometimes.”  
  
~x~  
  
Out of the blue, Michael gets a call from an unknown but somehow familiar number, in the middle of the night  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“...Michael.” Michael sat rod straight up on his bed. He would recognize that voice anywhere. It had been months since he pumped into Tom, and left the gift at their door. Even longer since he'd first seen James.  
  
“James? What time is it? Is everything alright?”  
  
“Everything's fine. I-I just wanted to thank you for your gift. I know it's a few months late, but I-”  
  
“You're welcome. I hope you liked it.”  
  
“I did. I do.....I love it. Thank you.” Michael voice was small, but full of affection. It took Michael right back to their nights spent together huddled with their toys on his bed telling each other this and that without a care in the world.  
  
“I-I'm sorry for calling you so late, I just...Good night.” He obviously sounded like he had more to say, but Michael thought better than to push. He was happy with anything James wanted to give him.  
  
“You can call me any time you wish. Good night, James.”  
  
Neither of them get any sleep that night.  
  
~x~  
  
Since that phone call, James had initiated contact with small short texts of seasonal greetings or even to ask advice for grad-school applications. With the completion deadline for his thesis looming, and preparations for doctorate applications, Michael barely noticed the added level of friendliness in his texts. He almost even missed the slight flirting. Almost. He soon found himself eagerly awaiting their daily text conversations. Some of them would last hours, spanning perhaps hundreds of text back and forth.  
  
Michael even did a fully nude victory dance in his tiny studio apartment, when he stepped out of the shower to find a delayed reply to his text asking after Tom.  
  
 _We broke up. Awhile ago.  
  
_ **Sorry. Seemed like a gr8 guy** _  
  
He is. He deserves better._  
  
That was way too close to the heart for Michael. He couldn't fathom why James would see himself as inadequate.  
  
 **Wait. Dont u live 2gether?** _  
  
I moved out. Enjoying the isolation, the space._  
  
~x~  
  
“So this is where you work.” James had come into the restaurant and bar where Michael works with a group of friends and looked delightfully surprised to see him serving up a couple of glasses of red wine. The brunet, who was wearing a deliciously tight T-shirt and even tighter dark jeans, had come over to the bar and is now leaning playfully against the counter to greet his friend.  
  
“I don't do the late night bar shift anymore at least. Been promoted to dinner time bar-tending, cause I seem to attract hungry cougars.” The shorter man gives him a charmed smile. “Impressive. I'll make sure our table orders the most complicated drinks on the menu, just to keep you on your toes.” It was one thing to be flirty over text, but when James put on his charms in person, Michael had difficulty functioning properly and his pants suddenly felt a little tight.  
  
As Michael is clearing up, he overheard one of James' friends telling him to invite his bartender friend out with them to their next joint. James, now more than a little tipsy makes his way over with a playful smile and asked him to join. “I get off in 5.” Michael doesn't bother wiping away his idiotic smile or slow down his heart rate.  
  
They end up in one of the hottest new gay clubs in town, and being that it's a Friday night, it's packed with moving bodies in an array of undress. The second they stepped in, most of James's friends have disappeared into the abyss of what really looked like an orgy. James turns and looks seductively at him then pulls him in, and they mold their bodies against one another, dancing to their own beat.  
  
Suddenly, a striking tall figure with a familiar face steps up behind James and wraps his arms around his waist. It was Tom, slightly drunk and clearly having a wild night. James, a little stunned, jumped and turned his head to see his groper. The slow provocative smile those cherry lips form makes Michael's gut twist in complaint. The blonde then starts swaying his hips while his crotch is pinned up between James's pert ass. The sandwiched man's eyes roll back in ecstasy and he is pushed right up against Michael's well toned chest. James buries his head in Michael's neck and his pants tighten some more when he feels labored breaths against the sensitive skin of his neck and ear. Too bad the loud music is drowning out the moans escaping from the smaller man, and judging by their vibrations across his body, it should be nothing short of pornographic.  
  
Tom continued rolling his hips into James' earnest ass to the beat of the music, his rhythm never faltering. James was now mewling and gasping wantonly as he is more or less fucked into Michael's eager grasp. Michael feels a little disgusted with himself for being so wholly aroused by what is happening before him. He doesn't want ever see another man touching James, but yet he can't take his eyes off of them.  
  
All of a sudden, a giant blonde reincarnation of a Norse god joined them from behind Tom, turned his head and gave the slightly shorter, but still freakishly tall blonde a shamelessly filthy kiss. This seemed to cut Tom from all his inhibitions and he exaggerates his rutting, driving James to the brink of climax. As soon as Tom's mouth is released from the viking's tongue, he makes a grab for James'. Without thinking, the red head covers James' mouth with his hand. He looked wide eyed at Tom, mostly out of astonishment, but with a hint of challenge. A hot wet tongue begins to lap at his palm, and Michael breaks. He takes hold of James, and drags him out of the suffocating club.  
  
Barely five steps outside, Michael slams James into a wall and kisses him breathless. James returns the kiss just as eagerly and as fiercely. “I can't stand another man touching you! Please don't ever let me see that again. It makes me sick just thinking about it!” Michael sounded tormented in the chilly midnight air. He had his hands clasped tightly around the smaller man's slim waist, and his forehead resting against James'. Even under the harsh yellow street light, James' azure blue eyes were stupefyingly bright. He cupped his hands around the taller man's face, and brought their  
  
“Then take me. Take me home. Make me yours.”  
  
What came next was 10 minutes too long of Michael's frantic, almost enraged attempt at hollering down a taxi. Those empty taxis that took off without stopping probably thought he was a deranged drunk out for blood.  
  
The second they both finally climb into a cab, James almost makes him come in his pants when the blue eyed man slid on top of him and circled his ass down onto Michael's all too weepy hard on. He doesn't even have time to give the driver an apologetic-yet-I-fucking-am-so-not-sorry look in the rear view mirror. The driver should be thankful they managed to keep things below X-rated for the rest of the journey anyway.  
  
It was another struggle of stairs, keys, doors, elevators, more keys and more doors until Michael finally has James where he's always wanted him. In his bed, earnestly mewling for him. He allows himself a moment to take in heavenly sight before him. James was splayed out lazily on his unmade bed, eyes fixed lustfully on Michael's. He drew a hand across the cotton sheets as if to entice the still standing man to join him. Michael kneels down beside the bed, and captures James' hand with his own. “I've fantasized about this for so long. Sometimes it felt like the most tormenting of nightmares when I thought I'd never have you.” “Then what are you waiting for?”  
  
Over the next hour the two men slowly and thoroughly explored and mapped each others' body, scent and taste. As much as James begged for Michael to speed things up and fuck him senseless, going as far as displaying himself like a ram in heat, the older man continued the tormentingly slow pace. No longer able to hold it any longer, Michael finally gave mercy to the both of them when he entered James' now vigorously slick and heated channel. He was so tight, and the velvety walls clamped down on his shaft so strongly, Michael knew he would not last long at all. A handful of hard thrusts had James crying in euphoria, and he spurts, untouched, steams of milky liquid between their sweaty stomachs.  
  
Michael tenderly kissed and caressed James through his climax, forcing himself to slow completely down almost to a stop. Then, he finally let himself to say it out loud. “I love you, James. I've not stopped loving you. I never will.”  
  
“I love you too.” James whispers back into his ear. Michael comes inside him that very instant.  
  
~x~  
  
What was the best night of his life turned out to be one of the worst days the morning after. It was right up there with the day he smashed the Professor in pieces.  
  
Michael woke up when he felt his bed dip, and the glorious sight of James' nude backside greeted his sleep heavy eyes. After silently appreciating the free show for a few seconds, he noticed something off about James' somewhat rushed movements. The red head moved to embrace his professed love, only to be spitefully pushed away. Michael felt as if his heart was squeezed upside down. “I-is something wrong?”  
  
James finally turns to give him a quick glance, his eye's were red. “This was a mistake. We should forget about it. In fact, this whole thing was a big mistake. We're better off not seeing each other again.” James talked rapidly as he hurriedly continued to get dressed.  
  
The world seemed to have zeroed in and faded in that one second. “It wasn't a mistake for me. We made love last night. You can't deny that!”  
  
James spat back with venom. “I was fucking drunk. You don't make love when you're drunk.”  
  
Michael didn't believe it. He couldn't. “But you remember it don't you? You remember what I said to you last night and what you said back?”  
  
“....I don't remember a thing. This...this didn't happen.” James grabbed doesn't even finish sliding on his shoes before he slammed the door shut behind him.  
  
Michael stood, still naked, in the middle of his tiny apartment unable to move, unable to breath. Finally, Michael snaps and he turns his room into a chaotic mess in a bout of rage and self-loathing.  
  
That night, he packs up his things and his  completed research notes. He has already emailed his professors, advising them that he is going away to finish off his thesis.  
  
Michael does not look back as he switches off the lights and shuts the door.  
  
~x~  
  
“OoooOoo.”  
  
There were literally hundred of little green three-eyed aliens staring intently at Erik's display of his ability. Needless to say, the plushy was more than a little unnerved at the uncoordinated yet somehow coordinated blinking of a vast sea of eyes. Deep down though, Erik was deliriously happy to have the the LGM among them. Their constant squeaking can only down out his own mortifying ones.  
  
“What more can you show us, New Master?”  
  
“I am told you are all particularly captivated by some type of claw crane?” From behind the plush toy, several pieces of metal float together forming a large three-pronged claw.  
  
“The Claw!!” The LGM become an excited green mob of squeaking and 'Oooo-ing'  
  
“That's it! I can't handle it anymore! Stop squeaking!!” Azazel appears above them out of nowhere, and aims his glove-body at the swarm of LGM.  
  
With a swift wave of his organic cotton-filled arm, Erik is able to freeze the metal in the springs and maneuver the bright red toy to the other side of the closet.  
  
“You have saved our lives and we are eternally grateful.” Erik looked smugly at the squealing green sea before him. It's moments like these that makes it all worthwhile. Beside him, a row of powered toys have equal expressions of resignation.  
  
~x~  
  
“Michael! Michael get down here! You have a visitor! Oh! It's so good to see you! And look how much you've grown. Such a handsome young man! Michael Fassbender, get your ass down here right now!”  
  
Michael was rudely awoken from his nap by his mother's screaming. He had spent the night and most of the morning continuing with his thesis. Coming home for the summer, since _That Day_ , was suppose to give him some quiet to work on it, not to mention free housing and food, but he was soon regretting the decision, what with all the nagging from his mother, and the awkward meals with their neighbors, the McAvoys. Last week, he even had to endure a full five course dinner under the icy glare of Jennifer. She was visiting home with her now husband, Nicholas, and her seven month baby bump.  
  
Unwilling to get out of bed, he feigned sleep and heard some murmuring from downstairs, which turned into footsteps coming up the stairs. They seemed to have stopped outside his bedroom door. Michael somehow sensed a wave of hesitancy and unease coming through from the other side. There was a small knock on his door, before it creaked open, revealing a head of wavy brown hair and azure blue eyes. His visitor bit at his lips as he quietly slid through the door.  
  
“James!” Michael jumped clumsily out of bed and practically fell into the smaller man, crushing him to the door. James coughed and said while looking away blushing, “I-I think I'll wait outside until you're more decent.” “Shit. Sorry. Hold on a sec.” It was the middle of summer, and Michael sure wasn't expecting anyone to be coming into his room, so naturally he took his nap naked.  
  
“I heard you were back here.” The brunet was soft spoken, yet unable to look him in the eyes. “Yeah, I came back hoping for some pampering while I finished my thesis, but the pampering has not been forthcoming.” James let loose a small chuckle, then an awkward silence crept between them. “....was there a reason for your visit, James?” As much as he is thrilled by the visit, and as much as he wants to just hold the man in his arms again, he can't stomach more heartbreak.  
  
“I wanted to explain. I-I wanted to tell you...what I said that day, I lied.” It took him a few seconds to figure out what James had meant, and his blood turned cold when he arrived at the only possible conclusion.  
  
“...about loving me?”  
  
James' head shot up and his blue eyes are wide with surprise and worry. “No! A-about being drunk...and not remembering.” Michael had to a double take on a double take. He must have looked like a feeding goldfish for a minute or two.  
  
The smaller man looked to the ground again and continued. “...it's why it failed with Tom, it's why it failed with all the others.” James' voice was shaking and raw. “I was so scared...so terrified you'd push me away again. I couldn't bring myself to believe your words.....perhaps a part of me even wanted to hurt you as much as you've hurt me.”  
  
Glazed blue eyes finally lock onto disbelieving green. “I think I've loved you since before I knew what love meant. Will you forgive me? Is it even possible for us to work now?”  
  
~x~  
  
It took them two full days of packing and moving to get everything into their new apartment together. Michael doesn't really know how he managed to fill his room or that miniscule studio apartment with so much crap.  
  
“Mikey, what's in this box?”  
  
James has gotten back to calling him his childhood nickname that only he was allowed to use. It shows on Michael's face every time how delighted he is to be called that again.  
  
“Which one? Oh! That's..uhh..some stuff from back home.” Michael tried to take the box off James, but the smaller man playfully snatches it away. “Really? What more did you have to bring from home? I hope it's your dad's roast or burgers.” It was clear James wanted an explanation right now.  
  
“Fine! Come on, I've already thought of the best place to put them.” James gives him a dubious look, but nonetheless followed him into their bedroom. Michael indicates for James to put the box on their bed, as he retrieves a pair of scissors to open it.  
  
The contents inside left the brunet utterly speechless. Michael started to unload each object one by one with extreme care, dusting off any excess dust or mildew, and placing them on the upper most shelf of their bookcase. They were all accounted for. Michael's Brotherhood, and James' X-Men. All their most treasured childhood memories displayed together again.  
  
Michael left an obvious space right beside the worn-looking Magneto.  
  
He wraps his arms around his beloved, and says, “I think it needs just one more, and it'll be perfect.”  
  
Grey-green eyes looked lovingly into teary sky-blue ones, as the Professor X is placed back where he belonged.  
  
For the rest of the day, they were too busy christening every part of their new home to notice how every toy on that shelf had tiny beads of tears running down their frozen faces. Every toy that is, expect the Professor.  
  
~x~  
  
"Ch-Charles?" Erik reaches tentatively with shaking hands to cup the Professor, not quite believing what his eyes were seeing. As his velvety skin makes the barest of touches, Erik knew something was wrong. The now wheelchair bound toy continued to sit there not making any noise or movement.  
  
“Charles, it's me, Erik. Are you there?” A few more minutes pass in painful silence before Erik finally gives up and collapses onto the ground, as if the exhaustion and grief of the past few years all caught up to him in one devastating blast.  
  
“Wait! Look, there's a piece missing from Charles.” Hank pointed at a small space where the left breast pocket should be. Where the heart should be. All the toys look at Erik in understanding and anticipation.  
  
With abated breath, Erik produces the small piece of splintered wood that he has kept right up close to his own heart, and steadily placed the missing piece back to where it belonged. Charles remains a blank shell.  
  
Erik can no longer hold in his sick. Just as he gets up to leave, a familiar and much longed for hand reaches up for his, completely stopping his heart for two beats.  
  
“...Eri..k.....My love.”  
  
~x~  
  
Thanks so much for reading!

Yes, that last bit was inspired by Monsters' Inc :D


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